


Shake It Off

by Malkontent



Category: Bad Blood - Taylor Swift (Music Video)
Genre: BAMF Women, Banter, Bechdel Test Pass, Betrayal, Break Up, Exlosions, F/F, Fights, Girls Kissing, Girls with Guns, Healing, Locker Room, Misses Clause Challenge, Partner Betrayal, Partners to Lovers, Recovery, Revenge, Science Fiction, Spies & Secret Agents, Spy Gadgets, Training, Tropes, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5453564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malkontent/pseuds/Malkontent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catastrophe has to learn to let go, but Arsyn isn't making it easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shake It Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [presentpathos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/presentpathos/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide! I hope you enjoy! :D

_**6 Months Ago** _

It’s a long way to fall, no matter who you are.

Around her the glass twinkles and shines like a thousand diamonds scattered through the sky. She sees her face for a moment; reaches out to her. That angelic face that she knew so well and yet not at all. There’s a hint of a smile on her lips. A long withheld grin that tells Catastrophe all she needs to know in that split second.

Time starts again, revving up to overdrive to make up for the frozen moment of betrayal. A world comes crashing down after a split second of eternity. When her back hits the car she can feel her spine crack; feel each tendon and bone shift as they’re knocked out of alignment like a line of billiard balls.

There should be pain; her world should be exploding. But all she knows is that porcelain grin. She stares up at the open window as the sound of sirens crying out in the night gets closer, and she wonders:

_Did you have to do this? Did you have to hit me where I'm weak?_

It’s a long way to fall.

 

\-------------------------

 

When she wakes everything is pure white light. The light fades and slips away from her and is replaced by steel grey. She feels cold metal on her back and shudders. The hum of machines surrounds her.

She can feel them working on her, putting her back together. Nanobots stitch flesh to bone and nerve to nerve. Microscopic lasers cut out dead tissue and sonar pulses break up blood clots.

This time there’s pain.

There’s blood in her mouth, and an old, sticky taste that tells her she’s been out for a while. In the air she smells smoke; the scent of cheap cigars.

Lucky.

“Sleeping Beauty awakens,” the familiar voice drawls, “It’s about damn time. We don’t pay you when you’re unconscious, you know.”

“Fuck you Fiori…” she manages to murmur through cracked lips.

“Well, at least your brain isn’t broken. Thank God for small miracles. Seems like damn near everything else was.”

Catastrophe turns her head slowly, wincing from the hot needles of pain it causes. Lucky reclines at her desk, cigar held firmly in black-gloved fingers.

“Arsyn…”

Lucky takes a puff from the cigar. “Gone. Along with the briefcase. She hacked into our system and ghosted our files on her and the item. It took The Trinity more than a day to find and close all the backdoors she’d installed. She’d been planning this for a long time.”

“...how long?”

“Years. Some of the subroutines she installed go back to her early days here.”

Catastrophe closes her eyes.

“Where is she?”

“Well let’s see…” Fiori picks up a paper from her desk. “According to the latest reports she’s in Hong Kong, San Francisco, Moscow, Berlin, Rome, Buenos Aires, Toronto, and some place called… Sweetlips, Tennessee. We have no idea. She’s scrambled all our intel. Nav-sat is shot. We’re back to basics on this one. She even tore out the subdermal tracker. We found it in a garbage can two blocks from the Virtucorp office building. Along with this…”

Lucky reaches into her desk drawer and takes out a small plastic bag, holding it up. Inside is a pair of silver earrings shaped like hollow triangles.

“Do these mean anything to you?”

Catastrophe turns away and exhales slowly.

“No…”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Lucky says, standing up.

“You’re a terrible interrogator.”

Lucky sighs and drops the bag on the metal table next to the broken woman.

“What I am is short my two best agents. Arsyn has an Alpha level security threat in that briefcase and we have no way of retrieving it.”

“I can find her. Just let me…” Catastrophe tries to sit up but a searing pain cuts through her back, forcing tears into her eyes. She gasps and falls back on the table.

“You’re not going anywhere. Not until Welvin and I are satisfied you’re ready.”

“But I can…”

Lucky puts one hand on Catastrophe’s shoulder. Catastrophe turns her head to look at the black leather glove. She’s seen Lucky without those gloves once; caught a glimpse of the burned flesh they hid. They’re relics of another failed mission from long ago. They’re the reason she’s behind a desk nowadays.

Battle scars. Just like the fresh ones on Catastrophe’s back.

“Cat…” Lucky says, all of the snark and gruffness gone from her voice, “Stay still. Let the machines do their work. We’ll get her, but not today. You need time to heal.”

Catastrophe closes her eyes.

“Time can heal… but this won’t.”

 

\-------------------------

_**2 Years Ago** _

Catastrophe opens her locker with a sigh. Steam clings to her skin and her hair lies flat and wet against the flawless skin of her back. Every muscle aches; every joint rebels. It’s a struggle just to hold up the towel covering her body.

“Headmistress worked you pretty hard today, huh?”

Catastrophe turns to see her partner leaning against the lockers with that porcelain grin of hers and she can’t help smiling back.

“Yeah. They should have codenamed her Slavedriver. When did you get back?”

“An hour ago,” Arsyn says, her eyes sliding down to where fabric meets flesh, “Lucky was debriefing me.”

“I wanted to be there to see you when you got in. I hear you kicked some ass down in Central America.”

Arsyn flips her hair back proudly and laughs.

“You could say that. One less dictator in the world.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two where Catastrophe’s heart seems to stop. Arsyn’s gaze holds her in its clutches. It’s ridiculous, but she still feels self-conscious, even after the things they’ve done together.

Finally Catastrophe clears her throat and reaches into her locker.

“I, ummm… I got you something. Kind of a welcome home gift. It’s not much, but…”

She hands Arsyn the small package and watches the other woman’s eyes light up, whether with amusement or affection or something more she’s not sure.

“Oh, Cat, you didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s nothing, really.” Catastrophe says, turning away to hide the blush in her cheeks.

Arsyn opens the small box and runs her fingers over the silver earrings with a smile.

“They’re beautiful. What do they do?”

Catastrophe cocks her head.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… do they inject poison? Are they lock picks? Some kind of explosive compound?”

Catastrophe laughs.

“No. I just... thought they were pretty.”

This time it’s Arsyn’s turn to blush.

“Well I think they’re gorgeous. I’ll save them for a special occasion. For now, though, I think we’re both overdressed…”

She steps towards catastrophe, her hand reaching for the towel. Catastrophe feels the cold metal of the lockers against her back and shudders. A moment later the towel falls to the floor as Arsyn’s mouth finds hers.

“Someone will see us…” Catastrophe mutters breathlessly.

“Let them…” Arsyn replies.

Soon they’re both too preoccupied to say anything.

 

\-------------------------

 _ **2 Months Ago**_  

The fist connects and Catastrophe’s world spins. The right hook that she should have seen coming sends her head snapping to the side and she stumbles back.

“C’mon!” Knockout growls, “You’re better than this!”

Catastrophe shakes her head. Her eyes slip back into focus just in time to see the follow-up left cross. She pulls back and the fist grazes her ear. Her feet move on their own… one… two… step right… one… two… step left…

Just like dancing.

She throws a hook experimentally and Knockout bats it aside, responding with a body shot to Catastrophe’s stomach that knocks the air out of her. She doubles over. She never even sees the uppercut that sends her backwards into the ropes.

When the cobwebs clear from her eyes she’s sitting in the corner of the ring, staring up at her sparring partner.

“What the fuck was that?” Knockout says, offering her hand down to the beaten woman. Catastrophe takes it and pulls herself unsteadily to her feet.

“I don’t know… I just… couldn’t move fast enough…”

“Bullshit,” Knockout says with her usual sense of tact, “You should be kicking my ass out there. You’re the only one in this place that can beat me hand to hand.”

“In case you forgot, I did just have my spine shattered a few months ago.”

“Walk it off. That’s not the issue. You’re distracted. She’s still getting to you.”

Catastrophe exhales and looks away.

“Look, Cat… she hurt you, bad. And these kind of wounds, they last and last. But you can’t let her control you.”

Knockout’s gloved hand rests on Cat’s shoulder.

“She betrayed me… she kicked me through a window. How do I forget about that?”

“You don’t. You don’t ever forget. But you learn from it. Everyone gets knocked on their ass sometimes. You get up, you shake it off, and you get back in the fight. We need you.”

Knockout’s hands fall to her side. For a moment her callous exterior cracks and Catastrophe can see the concern in her eyes.

“You can’t let her beat you like this…”

Catastrophe nods. She’s right.

“Ok…” Catastrophe says, shaking out her hands, “Let’s do this again.”

Knockout grins.

 

\-------------------------

_**3 Weeks Ago** _

Around her the glass twinkles and shines. The explosions outside have shattered the windows and jagged pieces rain down around Catastrophe.

“It’s over, Arsyn!” She shouts over the reverberating echo of noise, “Your team is gone. Your base is in ruins. Give me the case!”

A shower of sparks erupts around her as bullets ricochet off the nearby metal wall. Instinctively she ducks and rolls behind a pile of rubble. The warehouse shudders from the shock of yet another explosion.

“Screw you!” Arsyn screams from the catwalk above her, “You think this is over?! This isn’t over until one of us is dead! Those geeks may have given you a new spine but bandaids don’t fix bulletholes, bitch!”

She growls and opens fire, unloading the uzi on the rubble pile in a blaze of hot metal.

Catastrophe closes her eyes and counts. An uzi fires six hundred rounds a minute. A clip holds 32 bullets. Three seconds until she’s empty.

One.

Two.

Three…

Catastrophe leaps sideways and hurls the shuriken that Crimson Curse gave her for luck. It’s the only weapon she has left. Her last shot.

It slices cleanly through the wire support of the catwalk and Arsyn looks up in surprise as the floor gives way beneath her. There’s a crash and the jangled sound of metal scraping on metal as the catwalk collapses into a heap of broken beams and grating.

Catastrophe pulls herself to her feet. Her black body armor is ripped and stained with blood, both hers and others’. It’s been a long day.

She limps over to the pile of twisted metal and looks down, expecting to see Arsyn’s lifeless body.

“Bitch!” she hears a moment too late, as her former partner steps up behind her and slams a metal bar into her lower back, turning her newly repaired spine into a river of pain. Catastrophe crumples to the ground, staring up at her tormentor.

“Did you think this was over?! Did you think you could beat me?! I trained you! No one beats me!”

Catastrophe’s eyes struggle to focus.

“Syn… why? Why would you do this to me? To us?”

Arsyn laughs. She too is covered in shallow cuts and bruises. A thin trickle of blood falls from her busted lip.

“Really? You’re about to die and that’s what you want to know? That’s your problem, Cat. You always think everything’s about you. This was business, sweetheart. That’s all it ever was. And now, with you gone, business is about to be booming.”

She holds the iron bar menacingly. Suddenly her eyes fall on the silver triangle earrings that Catastrophe is wearing. With one hand she reaches down and yanks one of them off of her ear. She turns it over in her hand and grins.

“Seriously? You kept these? I thought sending them back to you would give you the message. I guess some people just can’t learn to let go, huh?”

Catastrophe reaches her hand up to her other ear, running a finger over the smooth silver of the earring.

“I did let go Syn. That’s why I’m here. You told told me what my problem is. Want to know yours?”

Arsyn laughs again.

“Enlighten me.”

“Like you said, no one ever beats you. You never had to pick yourself up and start again. You never had to learn anything new. These aren’t the same old earrings. I had Slay-Z modify them for me…”

Arsyn looks down at the earring in her hand as Catastrophe presses the tiny button embedded in its twin.

“Shit…”

A moment later one final explosion shakes the warehouse.

 

\-------------------------

_**Today** _

Knockout is just unwrapping her hands for the day when the door to the gym opens and a figure steps through.

“Well, well… back from the dead,” Knockout says with a grin as Catastrophe approaches the training ring, “Again. Welvin finally cleared you to leave Med Bay?”

Catastrophe nods.

“Yeah. I guess after you get blown up a little they tend to like to keep a close eye on you. How’s training?”

Knockout shrugs with a practiced cool demeanor.

“Same as always. Feel like going a few rounds?”

“Not today…” Catastrophe says with a chuckle, “Listen… I wanted to thank you. For what you told me. You were right. I needed to let go. To move on.”

Knockout swings herself down between the ropes of the ring next to her teammate.

“Any time, Cat. Anything for a… you know… friend.”

Catastrophe puts a hand on Knockout’s shoulder and they smile at each other.

“So, you won… You beat the bad guy. What are you gonna do now?”

“I don’t know," Catastrophe says, "How do you feel about dancing?”


End file.
